Copperback (27 page)

He
turned away from me and stormed out of the room without explanation, leaving me
to stare at the others, wondering what had just occurred, and why I was still
alive. The sandaled man had been waiting for the other to exit before returning
his attention to me. His demeanor changed again, softening, feeling warmer than
it had been before.

“If
you could stay – live here with us, never leave to see the sky or your family again
– would you be willing to sacrifice everything for him?”

“I
would.” I didn’t hesitate, even as the question caught me off guard.

“Even
your freedom? You would never be accepted back into your society. You would be
banished, like us. Treated like a slave. Is he worth that?”

Giving
up the world for Job was a trade I could make without regret. The glimmer of
hope offered in this third choice was uplifting. It was my chance to be with
him.

“Yes.”

“And
would you be willing to take our mark? The mark of a slave?” he asked, lifting
an eyebrow in curiosity, his forehead wrinkling up. “It will be with you for
the rest of your life.”

“When
can I?” I asked, almost before he finished.

The
chance to stay and live with Job was all I had wanted, and I was being given
the opportunity, in spite of everything. He was going to be able to remain safe,
with his people, and I could be at his side for as long as I wished.

“We
can be ready in an hour. You can wait with him outside this room while we prepare.”
A small smile appeared, giving me hope that he was happy not to have to kill me
today.

“Thank
you,” I said, my heart leaping out of my chest.

“Don’t
make us regret our decision,” he said, before I could run out of the room. “Living
here is going to be hard. Very few are going to accept you for a long time, if
ever. You will be watched closely, and one wrong step may cost you both your
lives, in the end.”

I
nodded, taking his warning to heart. I knew I would have to watch everything I
did to keep us from being targets.

 “And
another thing.” His speech was never-ending. All I wanted was to tell Job everything
was going to be alright.

“Your
mother would be proud, Emily.”

His
last words stopped every thought that was in my head. I was taken aback by the
notion that he knew my mother. I knew she had worked hard to save as many as
possible, but here, in front of me, was a man who was going to spare my life
because my mother had helped save his.

There
were no words that could express what her sacrifice meant to both of us. We
stood for a moment in silence before I broke away, remembering I had great news
to share with someone. I had to find him.

I
bounded back out into the dining hall, ignoring the stares of the Sayners in
the room. I couldn’t help it – I was elated about being able to stay with him.
Against the far wall of the large cavern, I found him sitting on the floor with
his knees drawn up close, hanging his head, crying softly to himself. His hands
were holding the necklace, watching it swing back and forth. He was consumed
with grief, lost in his own world.

“Job…can
I sit with you?” I asked calmly. I didn’t want to give it away too quickly.

He
was shocked at hearing my voice, yet still refused to look up at me. I placed
my hand on his back, but he jerked away, as though my touch was burning him
somehow. He was rejecting my comfort under the belief that I was still going
through with my plan.

“What
are you doing here?” he snapped.

“I
have to wait. They said they had to prepare, and I should come out with you.”

“I
don’t want you here.”

“What
happened to my tough guy?” I inquired, smiling, trying to get him to at least
face me. I knelt down next to him to be at eye level.

His
angry voice shot back at me as his hand tightened on the necklace. “Tough guy?
Do you think this is a joke? You just told them you would die because of me,
and you want me to just accept it?”

“You
would do the same for me.”

“That’s
different,” he replied, his voice still gruff from the crying jags.

“I
want you to come back in the room with me when they are ready.”

“So
I can watch them kill you? You actually believe I can do that?”

He
finally looked at me, his eyes still wet with tears. He was upset with me and what
I was putting him through.

“No.
I want you to come back with me and make sure I don’t pass out when I get branded.
I have a feeling it’s going to really hurt.”

I
watched my words sink in. The grief passed, and he stared happily, hopefully,
at me – but only for a second. It soon faded, and he was back to being upset
again. The tears were gone, but his face was filled with the disgust I had seen
too many times before. Something in him was trying not to enjoy this moment
like I was. He turned his head away again, looking at the chain still in his
hands.

“I
don’t want you to do it,” he said. “I didn’t have a choice, and you do. It’s
not worth it.”

“You
are worth it.” I turned his face to mine to make him look at me. His sad eyes
kept trying to look away, but I wasn’t letting him. “I love you, and I would do
anything to stay with you. A little scar is not going to make a difference.
I’ll still be me, and you can have me – unless you’ve changed your mind.” I smiled
at him.

“No.
No – I still want you.”

He
was still looking at me, but without being forced. Before I could react, he had
his strong arms around me, holding tight, pressing me into him as though
letting go would change the outcome yet again. I tried to return the hug, but
could only hang on as he stood, lifting me into the air, my feet floating above
the ground. I didn’t fight him, even as his hands brushed against my injured head,
cradling me against his shoulder. He suddenly remembered the accident from the
night before and gently let go, allowing me to lift my head up to see his handsome
face shining radiantly with his loving smile. His lips moved in for a kiss that
I longed to share with him. Every bit of passion he put into it, I returned,
without worrying that we would have to stop and wait before continuing. I could
keep the electricity that flowed between us on for as long as he was willing.
There were not going to be any more interruptions, or gasps of pain, or jealous
suitors. We were safe and hidden away, and we had each other.

“So,
you really want to do this?” Job asked, putting me back on the ground and
releasing his hold, watching to see if I would lose my balance from the long,
drawn out embrace.

“Yeah,”
I said, staring into his magnificent eyes, his cheeks still stained by tears.
“I do.”

His
happiness was faltering again, and worry was taking its place. He began
fidgeting, and his eyes kept shifting back and forth between me and the room, making
me nervous. “I don’t think I can watch and not…lose control. I don’t want to
see you…hurt.”

As
much as I knew that I wanted this more than anything, I hadn’t stopped to think
of how he would react. His temper had gotten the best of him on more than one
occasion. He had been self-destructive, and then had nearly killed someone.
Every time I got hurt because of him, even unintentionally, he would
internalize his anger and fall apart, disgusted with himself. He clearly
believed this time would be no different.

“You
will not lose control. You will stay with me. You can talk me through it. I
need you to help me.”

The
sound of me needing him perked his interest. For so long he had needed my help.
He had watched me take care of him through every painful moment for weeks; this
was his chance to pay it back, but he was still concerned about his reaction.

“But
what if I–?”

“You
won’t.”

“But
I might–”

“It’s
not going to happen.”

“But–”

“That’s
it. I’m telling them to just put me out of my misery. I can’t listen to this.”
I turned to walk away, never planning on really doing any such thing.

Before
I had traveled more than a few steps, I could feel his hand catch mine, drawing
me back into him. I could feel the smooth leather of his jacket against my skin
and arms, as his chest pressed against my back. His warmth radiated from under
his shirt as he held me close. He snuggled his head on my shoulder, holding his
cheek against mine. His arms crossed around my waist, holding my hands. We
waited, the anticipation building.

After
some time, they came for us. One of the guards from the council room came out
to talk to Job.  The two of them held a conversation in their white noise
language, the guard either refusing to use English, or else didn’t know it.
Either way, he acted as though I was not at Job’s side, looking only at him. He
led us back to the room, where the three older council members were waiting. A
pit of coals had been added to the room. The red glow of the embers helped reality
sink in – there was no turning back.

Job
never let go, holding me around the waist, facing me. His hands start to shake from
the anxiety of having to watch what I was about to endure. I only wanted him to
be there to talk to me, and remind me why I had made this choice.

The
sandaled man stepped near us, his demeanor serious and withdrawn, as he waited for
my longing stare to end. “This is your last chance to change your mind,” he
said, once I had turned to him. “You are giving up everything in your life for
him. Do you want to continue?”

I
looked back at Job, holding onto every facet of his face, so I could recall it
when it started: his honey hair that swept across his forehead; his deep brown
eyes that shimmered gold in the light of the fire; the smooth skin of his
cheeks; the quiver of his lips as he waiting for my answer.

I
wasn’t just attracted to his physicality, but everything inside him, as well.
He had developed a personality all his own. He was able to express himself in
ways I thought impossible. He was caring and honest and loyal. He would do
anything for me, and would keep me safe. He was a beautiful man I had fallen
madly in love with.

“I
do,” I said, without turning away from Job’s gaze.

Giving
a nervous sigh, Job gripped tighter, never breaking his stare. I tried not to
look away, but I could see the coals being stirred, sending small specks of
orange up in the air, where they glowed brightly for an instant before burning
out. A short metal rod was being pulled from the embers, the emblem Job wore on
his hands blazing at the end of it, red hot. I gasped unintentionally, and
could feel my breathing quicken. As much as I had readied myself, my
expectations were far different than the reality.

“You
can still stop this, Emily, you don’t have to,” Job pleaded.

Turning
back to him, fixed on his eyes, I put my hand out, waiting for the pain to
start – promising myself I wouldn’t scream.

I
could never have imagined how it would feel to be branded by a hot copper iron.
At first, it was just hot, like accidentally touching a pan on the stove without
wearing an oven mitt. As shocking as it was, I tried to withdraw my hand from
what was causing the pain, only to find that it was being held out against my
will by a set of unknown hands. Without being able to yank my arm back, the
intensity shot through me, and I could feel the brand searing the skin off my
hand. The smell of charred flesh hung in the air. I couldn’t control what my
mouth was doing, and the scream erupted before I could make any attempt to hold
it in. The agony crawled up my arm, feeling as though they had just submerged
it in the coals. All concentration on Job was lost. I could see him holding his
breath, waiting for me to stop, but it continued, unabated.

He
held me closer against him, stroking the small of my back with jittery hands,
keeping his face close to mine. His breath and touch was comforting, but not
enough to keep the burning of my hand at bay.

“They
are done with that one. It’s almost over. Please, just stop this. I don’t want
to watch–”

I
didn’t let him finish. Nearly hyperventilating, with tears streaming down my
face, I shakily held out my other hand, waiting for the branding to start
again. He buried his face into my shoulder, unable to watch anymore.

The
second round was as bad as the first. My legs gave out completely as the
screaming continued. I couldn’t feel the pain in my other hand, as I was overcome
by the fire of the new one. As much as I tried to free my hand from the fire,
someone was still holding it, forcing me to keep still. Job was whispering in
my ear, but everything around me was hazy. Even though I knew the brand had
been removed, the charred skin kept burning, over and over. I slowly gained
power over my body again, and was able to manage only a small whimper instead
of the full onslaught of screams. Both hands were throbbing almost equally,
now.

“It’s
over. It’s all over. I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere. I love you so
much.”

I
could hear the choked up sound in his voice. He was trying to hide it, but when
he backed up, I could see a tear stream down his lovely face. He smiled to make
me feel better, but it was strained.

I
felt something wet on my hand that began to sting. The coolness squelched the
burning sensation, but just the touch sent the sharp pain back up my arm, and I
gasped as I squeezed my eyes tight, waiting for the pain to fade. “It just
water. It’s going to help. Give it a minute.” Job’s voice was reassuring,
telling me that the worst was over, and the time for healing had begun.

Before
the wet cloth could be placed on my other hand, I looked down to see the black
charred outline of the symbol that had cauterized on my skin. An eye was permanently
tattooed to my hand. It would match Job’s in every way, yet I had been given the
choice, whereas he hadn’t.

Moving
my fingers hurt too much, as the backs of my hands swelled around the brands.
The agonizing throb continued till Job held my hands by the wrist and placed
them on his shoulders. The aching diminished slightly, though any movement sent
sharp pain back down my arms.

He
held out the necklace between us – letting it sway back and forth, as if to
hypnotize me. He didn’t need to ask if I wanted it back. I had just proved that
I did. I would never take it off again.

He
slipped it around my neck, running his smooth finger down the chain to the
penny, holding it there for a moment, as though to demonstrate that it was back
where it belonged.

 “You
know, a ring would have been better,” I said, trying to focus on humor instead
of my hands.

His
puzzled look showed he wasn’t getting the joke. It seemed to not be something
he was familiar with. “I’m supposed to give you a ring?”

It
was hard not to laugh at his confusion. “No. It’s a human custom in a situation
like this. I don’t want one. I have everything I need right here.”

I
leaned up to him to kiss him, but he had stopped me, still perplexed. “What
other customs are there for this? Maybe I can do something else?” he asked
curiously.

“Well
the only other one I can think of, you can’t do either, unless you can give me
your last name?”

“No.
I can’t.” He looked away from me.

 He
was thinking – mulling over something in his head. I became afraid that, in
just this small fragment of time, he had started to regret my decision. Before
I could say anything, he looked back down at me with his loving eyes, yearning
for a way to please me.

“Can
I have yours?” he asked.

“Hmm.
Job O’Neil. It has a nice ring to it. You can have it, but I want it back, if
you ever decide to leave me,” I joked, watching his infectious smile gleam in
the light of the fire.

 “I
don’t think that will be an issue. See, it’s our custom that we never leave the
one we are meant to be with. We stay together for life.” His voice was soothing.

“Well,
it better be a long one, then.”

Foreheads
pressed against each other, I could feel his warm breath on me. He knew it
would relax me and help me forget for a moment about the pain. I leaned in
further to kiss him, only to have him pull back teasingly, as though I wasn’t
allowed. It made me smile and bite my lip, rolling my eyes at him. He laughed
softly and drew in for a kiss, caressing my back with his hands. I didn’t care
who was watching. I was fine with being the sappy couple that couldn’t stop
showing affection. As twisted and cruel as fate had been, it had brought me
everything I had ever wanted, but had been too scared to find on my own. I knew
I was with the man I loved – the man I would spend forever with.